Hallowed Ground (15 page)

Smaller goon guy did the same.

“Is that supposed to make me tremble with fear? How do you know I don’t have a gun in my pocket?” I’d bluffed with Donovan and it’d worked then, so I figured I’d give it a shot.

They exchanged a puzzled look.

“You ain’t carrying,” small goon scoffed in a nasal tone, which confirmed his east coast roots.

I’d suspected, but now I knew for sure who I was dealing with: the Carlucci contingent. Fear manifests in different ways in different people at different times. Mine resembled verbal diarrhea.

“You sure? Maybe I’ve got a can of pepper spray. Or a stun gun. I could take one of you out before either of you took those guns out of the holster.”

I wiggled the hand inside my jacket pocket, watching their beady eyes follow the movement. All I had in there was a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and my cell phone, but hey, they didn’t know that. “You want to take that chance?”

“She’s bluffing,” small goon said.

“Look around guys.” With my left hand I pointed to the security camera hidden beneath an ivy-covered downspout on the side of the building. A fake. The building owners were too cheap to install the real thing and it fooled most people.

“If you were lucky enough to get the drop on me, after I disabled one of you, I guarantee I’d scream like a banshee. Someone would hear it. I also guarantee that unlike on the east coast, some Midwestern Samaritan would call the cops.”

I paused to consider them coolly while sweat coated my back.

“I have a feeling you don’t have a permit to carry concealed or a registration in your rental car, do you, boys? Do those guns even
have
serial numbers?”

Another quick exchanged glance.

“Bet the cops would love busting you guys. Oh, and since you’re obviously not local, I doubt you could convince them to look the other way. Especially since I would have no qualms about pressing harassment charges against your sorry asses.” My voice dropped to a loud whisper.

“Did I mention I had dinner with the head of the violent crimes division just last month?”

“Shut up,” big goon finally said.

“Or what?”

Evidently they weren’t used to women, or anyone else standing up to them. I might’ve cooperated at first, but dammit, I hadn’t had a cup of coffee yet and I wasn’t thinking too clearly.

They backed off, even when I sensed they’d rather grab me by the hair and shove me face first in the car.

“Look. We just want to talk to you.”

“And now you have.”

Big goon sighed. “You don’t get it. If you talk to us now, my boss won’t get involved. Trust me, you don’t want him to take a personal interest in you.”

“You tell your boss if he wants to talk to me he can make an appointment.”

“You don’t know who you’re dealing with, you stupid bitch,” small goon sneered. “Mr. C. will cut your tongue out for showing such disrespect—”

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy,” big goon warned.

“I don’t see why we gotta put up with her bullshit, Reggie,” Tommy said. “Smack her and let Mr. C—”

I retreated toward the building. “I’m going inside now. Follow me and I’ll shoot you. You tell your boss, Mr. C—I’m assuming it stands for Carlucci?—that if he tries this intimidation shit with me again, I’ll track him down and shoot him. I don’t give a fuck who he thinks he is.”

No one said a word.

The sound of a steel door hitting a brick wall broke the standoff. But I didn’t dare take my eyes off these guys to see who’d joined our little party. I noticed they didn’t either.

“Hey,” Kevin said, his footsteps picking up speed until he stood beside me. “What the hell is going on?”

God. I hated to lie to him, but I had no choice. I hoped he wouldn’t notice the nervous sweat breaking out on my forehead. “Nothing. These guys were just leaving.”

Kevin glanced over at Reggie, the big guy. “Is there a problem?”

“No problem.” His smile dried up like Wonder bread the minute his gaze landed on me. “We will talk again, Ms. Collins. Count on it. In the meantime . . . ” He crossed the ten feet separating us and stopped directly in front of me, his frigid, deadly eyes locked to mine. “Have a nice day.

We’ll be in touch. Soon.”

They climbed in a black Lincoln Towncar and disappeared down the alley.

I exhaled.

“Who were those guys?” Kevin asked.

“Insurance salesmen.”

“Yeah?”

“You know how pushy they get when you try to switch companies. Mention something about purchasing a ‘whole life’ policy and they’ll follow you through the gates of hell.”

“Hmm,” he said, clearly not buying it.

Before he voiced the questions I saw in his eyes, I said, “I was hoping to catch you today. Where are you going?”

Kevin frowned and brushed his hand over my temple. “Babe, why are you sweating?”

He
had
noticed. “Because we’re standing in the sun?”

His frown deepened. “It’s not that hot out here yet.”

“Sure it is,” I said, pulling him into the building’s shadow. “Let’s go inside. Get me something cold to drink I’ll perk right up.”

“Sorry.” Kevin leaned against the brick beside the door. Instead of his usual dapper self—suit, tie, perfectly shined shoes, he looked like a beach bum who’d been on a weeklong bender. “I’d planned on finishing up some employment checks for Greater Dakota Gaming, but, big surprise, I’ve been summoned.”

“By Lilly?”

“No. By Violet.”

My eyes widened.

“Her mother. And before you ask, no, nothing’s changed with Lilly’s condition.”

“Then why the summons?”

“Because she can.”

I kept my mouth firmly closed.

Kevin’s gaze focused on the oak trees in the park beyond the two-story concrete parking ramp.

“I’d hoped ... Hell, I wanted a normal day. Paperwork, catching up on phone calls, shooting the breeze with you. Drinking a cup of the sludge you pass off as coffee.”

“But?”

“But I’ve got to go because Lilly needs me.”

The words,
I need you too,
stuck in my throat.

I fumbled for my cigarettes.

He laughed—an abrasive bark that didn’t suit him. “I sound like a whiny prick, huh?”

“Kev, you’re entitled.”

“It’s one entitlement that sucks.”

“No doubt.” My gaze followed his to the bright green leaves shimmering in the sun, shifting on the morning breeze. “Want me to finish the Greater Dakota employment stuff?”

“Yeah. It’s on your desk.” He turned and looked at me. “I know you’ve got the Black Dog case, but I promised Bill in Human Resources I’d get those files to him.”

“When?”

“Last Friday.”

If Kevin had missed a major client deadline, he was more messed up than I’d imagined.

“How many?”

“Nine.”

Figuring an hour for each check, I’d be here . . . until they were finished. Chloe’s case would go on the back burner since Greater Dakota was our biggest contract.

“No problem. I’ll call Bill and have their courier pick them up before 5:00.”

“Thanks. You’ve been a great partner.”

Good thing the bricks dug into my back, holding me up. Made me a little queasy to realize the business was Kevin’s tether to a normal life, not me.

Kevin lightly chucked me under the chin. “I’m nominating you for ‘Employee of the Month.’”

“Too late, pal. I nominated myself, voted for myself, and spent the bonus check on myself.”

His cell phone rang. He checked the caller ID and swore, “Damn intrusive things. I’ll check in tomorrow.” As if in afterthought, he said, “Consider wearing your gun in case those ‘insurance agents’ come back.”

I smiled. “Never been one to fall for a hard sell.”

“Watch your back, tough girl, since I’m not here to watch it for you.” Guilt exposed frown lines by his mouth I hadn’t noticed before. “Better yet, call Jimmer.”

As I watched him drive away with a hollow feeling, my cell phone rang. My home number glowed on the blue screen. Kell. Big surprise.

Damn intrusive things, indeed.

I WORKED THROUGH LUNCH AND FINISHED THE REPORTS by 3:00, even when Kell had called and interrupted me a hundred times.

Okay, more like six times. I knew he hurt, I knew he was bored, but how was that my problem?

Like I had time to go home, put on a big red nose and a squirting carnation to keep him entertained.

Things were strained between us after one day.

If I was honest with myself, the more time we spent together with our clothes on, the more I realized we had absolutely nothing in common.

I’d left the answering service on to keep distractions to a minimum. Now that I had a minute, I propped my feet on my desk and indulged in a leisurely smoke. For the first time my mind wandered to the morning’s bizarre events in the parking lot.

God. Had I really been so stupid as to mouth off to mafia bodyguards? What if they were still waiting for me out there? And there were two of them and one of me. Bad odds.

I called Jimmer, the great odds equalizer.

He answered on the second ring. “Julie! Been thinking about kicking your ass. Surprised you remembered my phone number, it’s been so long.”

Oh, the curse of caller ID. “Well, I’ve been busy.”

“Ain’t we all. So. What’s up?”

“Can’t I just call up an old friend to chat?”

His snort of disbelief nearly shattered my eardrum. “Not since you’ve been hanging out with that musician pussy.”

Jimmer didn’t like Kell any more than my father would have. If I defended Kell, Jimmer would be more determined to maim him, so I changed the subject.

“Must be your lucky day. How would you like to see me in person?”

“Sure. When?”

“How about now?”

“Now? What’s the rush? Did Lilly finally kick the bucket or something?”

Jimmer had less tact than I did. “Nope. Still hanging on.”

“Pity.”

I slurped my Diet Pepsi, and peeked out the window to the street below. No black-suited guys hovering by the lamppost. “So, you coming over to the office or what?”

He sensed something wasn’t right. “What’s the deal, Jules?”

“I need you to walk me to my car.”

“Why? You got unpaid parking tickets and a meter maid gunning for ya?”

I held back a laugh. “No.”

He paused. “Then where is your car?”

“Right below in the office parking lot.”

“This some kind of dumb ass joke?”

“I wish. See, I had a little trouble this morning, and with Kevin out of commission, he suggested I call you.”

“Who’d you piss off now, little missy?”

His pet name brought a quick smile. “Big Joe Carlucci’s bodyguards.”

The silence on the line lasted about two seconds.

“Fuck. Don’t move. I’ll be there in ten.” He hung up.

I retrieved my gun from the filing cabinet and shoved it in my purse. Screw Kell. No matter what he claimed, words were not more effective than a Browning High Power. I locked up the office and waited in the hallway for Jimmer.

Permanent solution, hairspray, and shampoo blended with the sharp scent of Pine Sol and the smell of wet wool carpet. Our building janitor, Ricky, must’ve been busy last night. Though it looked like he’d skipped scrubbing the windows again.

Jimmer bounded up the stairs two at a time. Even wearing camo he didn’t fade into the background. At 6’6”, and all 300 odd pounds of it solid muscle, Jimmer never blended. From his buzz cut to his combat boots he embodied military.

I had my suspicions he was still involved with some “black ops” section of the government. Not only did he own a pawnshop specializing in military type weapons, he’d disappear for weeks at a time. And he’d never sent me a postcard from his travels.

It didn’t surprise me he knew of the Carluccis, since he knew everyone who was anyone. Most people were afraid of him, with good reason. As he bore down on me, I was glad he was on my side.

“Hey,” I said. In his shadow I felt like a munchkin from
The Wizard of Oz
.

And he wasn’t even winded from running up two flights of stairs. Big hands rested on his hips.

“You wanna tell me why the fuck you’re messing with those Italian assholes?”

Jimmer pronounced Italian,
Eyetalian
.

“Not intentionally, believe me,” I said.

He waited for me to explain, his “talk-or-I’ll-rip-you-to-shreds” glare burned into me until I blurted, “Tony Martinez hired me to find Harvey’s sister’s kid. Only no one knew Harvey’s sister, Rondelle, had been working for the Carluccis up in Deadwood. It’s gotten more complicated.”

“Complications Martinez didn’t know about?”

“Yeah, he wasn’t really happy when he found out.”

“I’ll bet. Christ, you really can pick ’em, can’t you, little missy?”

I shrugged.

“Does Martinez know someone from the Carlucci family paid you a visit this morning?”

“No.”

“He will.” His hard gaze went to my purse and he studied it like he had X-ray vision. “Your Browning in there?”

“Yep.”

“Loaded?”

I nodded.

“Stun gun?”

“Ah, no.”

He sighed his disappointment.

“Before you ask, couldn’t fit my bow in here either.”